The Great Sphinx at the Giza Plateau in Egypt. Despite
its monumentality, this universally recognized icon of the
ancient world is a fragile part of our heritage and continues
to suffer deterioration from forces that are still being studied.
The Sphinx and other archaeological sites, large and small,
are irreplaceable and are more vulnerable than museum objects
in protected environments. Photo: Luis Monreal.

Every year around the world, millions of people visit museums,
historic cities, and ancient sites to make contact with the past.
This vast interest in our cultural heritage reflects the desire
of people everywhere to know about and understand human origins
and achievements. Designation by UNESCO of more than 500 World Heritage
Sites, endorsed by the nations that own the sites, underscores the
notion of heritage as a universal human legacy.

Among all the types of heritage under threat, archaeological sites—and
their wealth of information and artifacts—are in greatest jeopardy.
Since time immemorial, archaeological sites have been exploited
for knowledge and for treasure, looted for objects, destroyed out
of idle curiosity, and plundered for material for new construction.
So great are the remains of the ancient civilizations of Egypt,
Greece, China, and the Americas as to seem, like the resources of
the oceans, inexhaustible. But even the oceans show evidence of
severe depletion and pollution—and the atmosphere, our own gaseous
"ocean," is stressed by carbon dioxide and pollutants. There are
many other examples of apparently endless resources being exhausted.

Is the archaeological heritage any different?

"Husbandry of resources" is the catchphrase in the areas of environmental
studies and ecology. The concepts and methods used in these fields
should also be applied to the preservation of the heritage left
to us. Lost sites, like extinct species, are lost forever. To prevent
their loss, we need a holistic approach to site conservation.

A Holistic Approach to Preservation

Chetro Ketl, an Anasazi settlement in Chaco Canyon, New Mexico. With
miles of stone walls to maintain in Chaco Culture National Historical
Park, the U.S. National Park Service (NPS) has reburied some areas to
protect important archaeological elements while still allowing
interpretive features to remain exposed. In an NPS-GCI project, Chetro
Ketl was partially reburied, in part to preserve the original support
beams. The images above show the same site before and after this
reburial.
Photos: Guillermo Aldana, Angelyn Bass.

Preservation, to be effective, requires knowledge of the
extent of the resource. We do not know how many and what
kinds of archaeological sites are still to be discovered,
and we can only estimate this by doing an inventory. Though
expensive, this is a critical part of a holistic approach.
Noninvasive geophysical techniques now exist for gathering
information and should be used by preservationists to locate
and record the extent of our archaeological wealth. Although
computer databases (such as geographic information systems)
are tools of immense power, even many technically advanced
countries have not greatly utilized them in managing
archaeological sites.

We also need to know more about how quickly or slowly
sites are being damaged and/or lost. Conservation science
and technology are sometimes seen as a panacea that will
save for the future what we value, if only we can muster the
resources needed to undertake the necessary conservation.
The truth, sadly, is different. All cultural heritage
deteriorates, no matter what we do. The most we can hope to
do is to slow rates of loss through preventive measures,
wise use, appropriate interventions and custodianship, and
prioritization of our efforts.

Prioritization is particularly complicated because
heritage that is important to one group may be of little or
no value to another. Assessing the values of a site with the
participation of interested parties is the important first
step. Aesthetic, historic, scientific, religious, symbolic,
educational, economic, and ecological values all need to be
considered. At the same time, we need to recognize that
values may not be immutable. All values, including economic
ones, are diminished by the deterioration of a site. In
addition, the relative importance of some values may shift
over time as a society changes.

Often it is a site's economic value that receives the
greatest attention. But when a government's tourism
authority works independently of its antiquities
conservation department, the revenue a site produces may not
go toward its protection. In many instances, a site is
enjoyed by visitors from places other than the country that
owns it, is managed by an agency that is underfunded and
inadequately staffed, and is of benefit to business
interests with little understanding of its fragility and of
the need for its conservation. Tourism and conservation
should be natural partners rather than antagonists. Tourism
can actually support conservation while still generating
income, but quantitative economic analysis is needed for a
convincing case to be made for this.

A holistic approach to the conservation of sites must
also confront the fundamental conflict between excavation
and preservation. That a buried resource exists today,
having survived for perhaps millennia, should make it
self-evident that the buried environment is a stable one.
That excavation exposes the remains to deterioration should
be equally self-evident. While archaeology has boomed in the
latter half of the 20th century, the protection of sites has
not kept pace. Conservation has never had the cachet of
archaeological discovery. Often an unwanted handmaiden of
archaeology, conservation began to demand its role in site
protection just at the time when funding for archaeology
became more competitive. It is the first expense in
fieldwork to be cut, because it is the one least likely to
provide the benefits that archaeologists seek—namely,
discovery and publication.

From the standpoint of conservation, the argument is not
against excavation (although more limited and less invasive
excavation is desirable), but rather for practices that
ensure that sites are conserved and protected.
Cultural-resource authorities need to mandate, through
legislation, a standard code of ethical practice to compel
the conservation of archaeological finds and sites. For
example, it should be required that sites that will not to
be opened to visitors be either maintained or reburied. If
there is no funding in a field archaeologist's budget for a
comprehensive conservation plan—which should include the
hiring of an experienced, on-site conservator—no excavation
permit should be granted.

In the past, archaeologists have dug "blind" (and dug and
dug) to uncover artifacts and structures. New tools that
allow for more precise, controlled excavation will,
hopefully, limit the extent of excavation. Among the new
techniques are ground-penetrating radar, resistivity and
magnetometry, seismic methods, and remote methods, such as
multispectral scanning from aircraft. Minimally destructive
methods, such as core sampling for chemical analysis and
micro-artifacts, have been used to determine ancient
settlement patterns. These techniques provide archaeologists
with instruments of precision that should precede and guide
the use of the spade and trowel, allowing more of a site to
remain undisturbed.

Conducting an inventory of archaeological resources,
expanding our knowledge of site deterioration, prioritizing
values, and integrating conservation into archaeology are
all important elements of site preservation. Equally
important is imbuing the thinking behind site preservation
with a holistic philosophy. To do so means refraining from
viewing the problems of archaeological sites entirely
through the prism of reductionism.

Reductionism

The visitors' center at Chaco
Canyon. Well-presented
information can help visitors
appreciate the many different
values of a site and can enrich the
experience of visiting that site.
Photo: Guillermo Aldana.

Archaeologist Fiona Marshall at
a demonstration mound,
explaining to the local Maasai the
method used to rebury, for
protective purposes, the hominid
footprints at Laetoli, Tanzania.
(The reburial was part of a joint
project of the GCI and the
Tanzanian Antiquities
Department to record and
conserve the site.) Educating a
local population on the
importance of a site is part of a
holistic approach to conservation.
Photo: Frank Long.

Tourists in the tomb of Queen Nefertari
in Luxor, Egypt, after the completion of the conservation
of the tomb's wall paintings by the GCI and the Egyptian Antiquities
Organization. The derivation of economic benefit from a site
must be balanced with measures that protect the site and preserve
the other values it may have. Photo: Shin Maekawa.

Conservation sits astride the arts and sciences. In
recent decades, the contributions of science to the
preservation of cultural heritage have been significant,
transforming conservation from skills- or crafts-based work
into a discipline. Only slowly has the realization come that
science cannot provide all the answers, nor can it ensure
the ultimate survival of any but a small fraction of our
heritage. Science is only a tool, and a technological one at
that. In the service of conservation, it must be balanced by
the arts and humanities.

The methodology of science has traditionally been
reductionist. Reductionism—the idea that the whole can be
understood by examining each of its parts—has helped
unravel the workings of the world. Lately, though, it has
come under attack for being incapable of giving insight into
such mysterious processes as the workings of the human mind.
Reductionism as a scientific methodology tends to result in
categorization. Categorization, the compulsion to organize
information, to "pigeonhole" for greater insight, has
increased in modern scholarship under the relentless
pressure of ever-increasing amounts of information.
Previously, bits of information were categorized and stored
so that how they functioned as a whole could be determined
later on. The analogy of the mechanical clock is apt:
disassembled and categorized as gears and springs, it is
worthless for telling time. When whole disciplines are
treated as isolated entities, impoverishment is the
result.

Within the natural sciences, the traditional domains of
physics, chemistry, geology, and biology have merged as a
result of the recognition that their boundaries are
artificial. The same may be happening in the social sciences
and the arts. But between the arts and the sciences, there
seems to have been little movement in the decades since C.
P. Snow wrote The Two Cultures. Thinking is still
polarized, and society relates to the arts and sciences as
though the two were entirely disparate and unconnected. In
fact, both are expressions of the creative impulse. Indeed,
physicist Freeman Dyson has described science as being an
art form, not a philosophical method. In this sense,
reductionism and categorization have served us ill. As
already pointed out, science is a tool in conservation. It
can help us to preserve what we value, but it cannot usually
tell us what we ought to value. That is the role of the
humanities. We need both.

The consequences of narrow thinking are evident in the
preservation of archaeological sites. It is not sufficiently
appreciated that a site may fit within a cultural landscape
that is also an ecological environment, and that the site is
affected by weather, tourism, vandalism, and the surrounding
biosphere. The archaeologist sees the archaeology, the
biologist sees the ecology, the visitor perceives the ruin.
We are not well trained to comprehend the totality or to
seek relationships. Why, indeed, should we look for wider
connections? Because a richer appreciation and a better
understanding of humankind's place in the world flows from
this approach. Holism is the antithesis of categorization.
The holistic conservation of heritage reflects a vision of
the world that embraces the interconnectedness of
things.

Sociobiologist E. O. Wilson speculates that we are
genetically predisposed to think only one or two generations
into the future. Whether or not this is biologically true,
by looking at the big picture we can transcend the limits of
a short-term perspective and the narrowness that results
from categorization. These two factors limit our spiritual
and intellectual enrichment, as well as our capacity to
preserve the past with the care that it requires if future
generations are to learn and benefit from it. Conservation
is for the future. Conservation works with the past to
strive for an understanding of an object or site in the
present, with the objective of saving it for the future.
Looking forward is as important as looking back.

Management

A polychromed figure—coated with
coal dust and dirt particles—in one
of the Yungang grottoes, a series of
5th- and 6th-century Buddhist
temples near the city of Datong,
China. The temples are threatened
by pollution from coal-mining
activities in and around Yungang. A
holistic approach to conservation
here would have to balance the
complex conflicts between
preservation and industrial
development.
Photo: R. Tseng.

Management of resources is a basic part of today's world. Implicit in the idea of management is a holistic perspective. Good management is holistic.

Underlying management, like science, is the reductionist process. This process is powerful because it allows us to understand how things work—just as it does in scientific investigation. As applied to site management, reductionist analysis enables us to determine the values of a site; examine the site's significance to various groups (including future generations); determine the causes and rates of deterioration, wherever possible, and derive a prognosis; develop a conservation strategy that may include development (for display or education) or reburial; consider the constraints, side effects, and threats of proposed interventions; communicate the written plan for evaluation to those who have a stake in the site and to those who are competent to critique the plan on a technical basis; and, finally, implement the program with appropriate documentation, management, monitoring, and maintenance.

While each of these elements requires particular expertise, the preservation of sites demands, in the end, a vision that is encompassing and holistic. (Various charters have sought to promote this, with the Burra Charter of Australia being one of the most effective.) The reductionist process is only the beginning of good management. To preserve the past, it must be followed by a holistic synthesis.

The rock art site of El Ratùn in Baja California.
Rock art sites, a particularly fragile part of our heritage,
can contain archaeological deposits in and around them. Walkways
of the kind shown here can help protect a site while facilitating
visitor access to the rock art. Photo: Nicholas Stanley-Price.

The Great Pyramid at the Maya site of Uxmal
in Yucatán, Mexico. At jungle sites such as this, deterioration
can be exacerbated by forces arising from the natural environment,
including vegetation growth. But because a site's surrounding
landscape is as much a part of the visitor's experience as
the structural remains, holistic conservation requires consideration
of the ecology and natural environment. Photo: Guillermo Aldana.

Has heritage management become too formulaic and mechanistic? There does seem to be a trend in that direction, and if it continues the dangers are grave. The word "management" itself is unfelicitous: borrowed from the realm of commerce, it is ill suited to the values (other than economic) of heritage. The gospel of heritage resource management, unless tempered by a holistic philosophy, risks reducing "heritage" to just "resource." This way of thinking has resulted in a convenient shortsightedness in some developing countries where the need for economic growth is urgent and where archaeological and cultural sites are considered a ripe "resource." The fragility and the nonrenewability of heritage are overlooked or forgotten in the rush to develop.

For centuries, the archaeological wealth of the world has been exploited for information and for loot. Added to these today is the tourist dollar. There is, of course, a natural life span to all things produced by humankind. That is a reality. Everything has its life, and that life will come to an end, whether through catastrophe or through the inexorable processes of decay. Seeking to slow this loss, conservation is a futuristic activity—it is for the future and future generations, though it is of the past. Those of us in the field of conservation need to disseminate more widely a philosophy of holistic thinking, and to ally ourselves with the environmental and ecology movements to create a vision of preservation that connects the cultural and natural worlds. In this way we may one day succeed in preserving not just pieces of our heritage, but our heritage as a whole.